


Pollination

by Lirillith



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, M/M, Sex Pollen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 20:46:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17794454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lirillith/pseuds/Lirillith
Summary: Cyan and Sabin get hit by an unusual new status effect.  The aftereffects are the real problem, though.





	Pollination

Trekking across the Veldt was one of Sabin's least favorite activities, even though it typically happened with Cyan. There were other ways to spend time with Cyan that didn't involve getting randomly charged by giant bipedal lizards with horns on their heads, or skeletal dragon-things, or tripping and landing on a plant that tried to eat you. But everyone except Gau generally agreed that life was too short to spend much time on the Veldt, so when Gau insisted he needed time on the Veldt to get stronger, it was Gau's two dads — Edgar had started calling them that and now everyone had gotten in on it, though Sabin was somewhat cheered by the fact that Cyan just harrumphed about it instead of insisting that no, Sabin was another son and not a co-dad — who got to accompany him. Sometimes Strago would come along with them, or Relm, but this time it was just the two of them, hiking along and swatting down giant mosquitoes and trying to learn Holy while they waited for Gau to rejoin them with the newfound knowledge of a different way to throw rocks.

Their latest encounter was a plant, one that had picked up its roots and gone wandering around looking for something to eat. Not one Sabin recognized, though they'd fought others that looked similar, but it was flowering, which just made the whole business more obnoxious, because the flowers were shooting pollen and both of them kept sneezing. Sabin finally just got in close and got to stomping and pummeling and grabbing and ripping, which finally seemed to do the trick. Eventually it was just a battered tangle of vines and leaves, oozing sap, with no further twitching or grabbing. The pollen was starting to settle, but it still burned in his nostrils, and he could hear Cyan coughing behind him.

"Cyan?" Sabin called over his shoulder. "You okay?" He kicked at the vines cautiously. It could be hard to tell when you'd actually killed one of these things. If you stumbled into a plant that tried to eat you, you could yank it out by the roots, but this was the kind that picked up their roots and went hunting, and they were another matter. This one didn't seem to have any fight left in it, though.

"I... I know not."

"Huh?" Sabin turned, and the motion made him woozy. "Oh," he said. "I think I know what you mean."

"Sir Sabin," Cyan said, his voice sounding tight. Was he moving away? "Sir Sabin, thou shouldst stay at some distance from me."

"What are you talking about? You were, what, ten feet behind me?" Though he was definitely moving away. Sabin didn't have much strength to argue, though. He plopped down on the ground and rested his spinning head in his hands. "Man, I hate the Veldt."

"Aye," Cyan said, and Sabin felt better hearing the chuckle that accompanied that. "When next we locate Sir Gau, I vote we return to the airship with all due haste. This latest monster hath made me feel most strange."

"Strange how?" Sabin was feeling strange in his own way, too. Lightheaded, and kind of overheated, and weirdly happy. And as horny as a horny thing. Horny like his brother. Cyan's voice had always had that effect on him to some extent. Even back when they first met, he'd found the older man's voice attractive despite the annoying speech patterns, and by this point he was completely in love with the guy, so it was that much more pronounced; every time he heard him, there was that warm glow of _that's my Cyan with the old-fashioned talk_. But it had always been on the level of _I like to listen to him_ rather than _his voice is making my pants fit all wrong._ "I'm feeling kind of weird too."

"Just... strange." Was he breathing kind of oddly? 

"I bet it was that pollen," Sabin said. "After that first blast I was trying to get in close and I ducked under most of the flowers, but you were just in range to get a real dose of it."

"Aye." 

"I don't know why you do that. I mean, you use a sword, you get right up in their space, and then you back off again?" 

No response. It wasn't the first time he'd needled Cyan about battle tactics, and maybe it was kind of a tired subject — Gau would snarl at them like a dog when they got into it, anymore — but Cyan didn't usually give him the silent treatment.

"Cyan?"

"Aye," he repeated. He was definitely breathing heavily. Could he be having some kind of allergic reaction or seizure or something? He'd stayed right in pollen range a lot. Maybe he needed healing. Sabin pushed off of the ground — it seemed like it took a lot of work — and walked over to Cyan, who had arranged their bags like a miniature wall between them, and had his back to them and to Sabin. 

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Sir Sabin, I pray thee, keep thy distance for a time!" On top of being short of breath, he sounded kind of panicked. Sabin stayed still for a moment, but there was nothing more except Cyan huffing away, and seriously, what was all this about?

Oh. It was about masturbating. Pants open, hand working furiously, and Sabin probably should have looked away, or turned his back, or at least not stared with his mouth hanging open, but he couldn't think why, exactly. Why shouldn't he try and memorize the view? He wasn't likely to get to see this again anytime soon. "Wow, you move fast," Sabin said. "I just barely noticed I was horny."

"I!" Cyan scrambled to cover himself. His face was redder than Sabin had realized people could get, so deep red it made him worry about a stroke or something. "I told thee to stay away!" 

"I was worried about you!" Cyan's hands were still moving, despite the jacket he'd pulled over himself, and Sabin couldn't, at the moment, think of any good reason not to kick off his shoes and undo his own pants. "Why should we be shy about this, huh?"

"Because this is indecent! How am I to stop myself when thou art..." Cyan just trailed off, his eyes fixed on Sabin's crotch. 

"You started it!" 

"To fight this creature was thy idea! I was prepared to evade it!"

"Look, just—" He'd have to get his pants off, entirely, there was not enough room inside them for a good yank, so Sabin gave up on that and leaned over into Cyan's personal space. "Just help me out here, okay?" 

"Help thee," Cyan repeated. 

"Yeah, I mean, why not? We're both in the same boat here." Not really how he'd have _wanted_ their first time to go, but he could roll with this. "I'm game if you are. And it looks to me like we're both game." 

Cyan's eyes flicked from Sabin's eyes, down to his lips, and then back. And then back to his lips, and this time they stayed there. 

That was pretty clear, right? Sabin leaned in closer. He'd never actually kissed somebody before. But Cyan was on top of things; Sabin's shy brush of his lips over Cyan's was swiftly turned into a real kiss, Cyan's mouth catching at his, teeth on his lower lip, tongue flicking against it just briefly, and they were kissing again, more, open-mouthed and hungry, tongues pushing against each other. When they broke apart, Sabin was panting, but at least he wasn't the only one.

"I had forgotten," Cyan said. "Men's mouths are so large."

"Hey, what's that supposed to—" But Cyan was kissing him again, up on his knees so he was higher up than Sabin, and Sabin was grabbing at him, trying to touch more of him, and if he was lucky figure out how the hell that armor attached so he could detach it. He got up on his knees, too, might as well use that height, but what actually happened was that Cyan grabbed his ass, and squeezed, and Sabin's hips jerked and he moaned out loud, which was pretty embarrassing. He wasn't having any luck with the armor, but the things Cyan was doing — kneading, squeezing, fingers exploring the cleft of his ass — were pretty distracting. Then Cyan was leaning and Sabin matched what he was doing, and next thing he knew his back was on the ground. They were still kissing. Cyan's weight was on him, pressed against him. Cyan's erection pressed against his leg, and he rubbed his thigh against it, experimentally. Cyan broke the kiss with a pained groan.

"Wait, that was bad somehow?" Sabin gasped.

"Nay. The opposite." Cyan sat up enough to start taking off armor, to Sabin's delight. Armor, and then his shirt. It wasn't like it was the first time he'd seen Cyan without a shirt, but it was definitely the first time from underneath him, which gave the view a whole new meaning. "Art thou prepared for this?"

"Are you kidding?" Sabin asked, laughing. He'd been prepared for this for an embarrassingly long period of time. At _least_ since they'd found Cyan hiding out on top of a mountain writing love letters to some girl he didn't even know; the sheer relief of learning he was alive had made it hard to keep from kissing him in front of his brother and Celes and Setzer, probably the worst possible audience in the world to that kind of reunion. Then he realized it might have been a real question. "Wait, do you mean, like, lube?" 

"I am prepared for that," Cyan said. He leaned down to kiss Sabin again, a hungry, messy kiss that got Sabin's beard and Cyan's mustache both wet, and then sat back to peel his pants off. Sabin lifted his hips to get free of his own. 

"Thou art still wearing too much," Cyan grumbled, so Sabin sat up and peeled off his shirt.

"I wish I could record this somehow. Normally you're all 'thou art not even wearing half of a shirt, let alone armor.'"

"My purpose is different now," Cyan said. "And thou art unlikely to take injury here."

"Oh, good, you'll be gentle." Which he said like a joke, but honestly, he was kind of nervous. He'd rather worry about it hurting than worry about disappointing Cyan, and Cyan definitely had more experience — maybe even with guys? that was new info — but still, nervous.

Cyan just kissed him again, and pushed his knee between Sabin's thighs as they lay back down. Skin against skin, and Sabin realized he was allowed to touch, right now. Suddenly his hands couldn't stop moving, over Cyan's back, his sides, his arms, braced on either side of Sabin's head. His face, chiseled cheekbones and crow's feet and lined forehead and square jaw, a face that wasn't scowling at all right now. His chest, heart beating hard. This was actually happening.

"What do I do?" he asked, his heart suddenly choosing that moment to lodge in his throat. 

"Just relax, and lift thy hips," Cyan said, and Sabin did, just like he'd done to get his pants off, but this time Cyan sat back, and his hand was down there, stroking the underside of Sabin's cock, his balls, the skin just behind them — who knew that was even sensitive? — and then, when he had Sabin squirming, brushing the skin around the whole, lightly, rubbing, and then sliding inside. In. Out. A little deeper, a little more, and somehow in all the times Sabin had called up some thoughts like this to see him through a lonely night, he'd never actually tried putting a finger in. But Cyan kept doing it, and Sabin was moaning, and with a satisfied smile, Cyan sat up and his eyes met Sabin's.

"Art thou ready?" he asked, and Sabin nodded.

"I will do my best to — to please thee," Cyan said. "But it has been too long since I made love to— to anyone save my own hand."

"I'm not— it's enough for me that it's you," Sabin said, and Cyan reached out to touch his face. 

"Breathe deeply," Cyan said. "Try not to tense up. I will be as slow as I can bear it."

"Okay," Sabin said, and he drew a deep breath, and another. He felt the pressure, and then pain, and his fingers were digging into Cyan's thighs. 

Cyan repeated "Deep breaths," and Sabin nodded, and breathed, in, out, and when Cyan moved again it still stung, but oh shit, this was what he wanted, Cyan over him and in him, Cyan looking at him like that, with concern and care and desire. He breathed deep and reached out and Cyan took his hand, and laced their fingers together. He was getting used to the feeling, and when he squeezed Cyan's hand, Cyan began moving regularly — he'd been holding off until then, Sabin realized — and it was better. In, and then out, in and out, and it was good, it was so good. He was panting and Cyan was saying his name and when he wrapped his free hand around his cock, he barely lasted three strokes. Cyan was still moving, and now he was moving fast, not saying Sabin's name anymore or much of anything except panting, and then he grimaced, and shuddered to a stop. 

When he pulled out, Sabin lay still for a moment, but Cyan just sat back, with his head bowed, and Sabin sat up too. "Cyan, are you... okay?" Sabin felt better. His head wasn't spinning anymore, but he felt worn out, incredibly tired. 

Where were their water canteens? They'd both need to clean up. He saw their discarded clothes and armor. The bags Cyan had been trying, ridiculously, to hide behind. His own semen drying out on his belly and Cyan's. They were in the middle of the Veldt, totally unprotected — no campsite, no tents, no fire, nothing to keep some random Behemoth from wandering by and eating them both. Or Gau from galloping up to say hi. They were nowhere near the airship, at least, but... "What the hell," Sabin said.

"What have we done?" Cyan asked.

"That one's easy," Sabin said. "We—" _We made love,_ Cyan had said, but that felt like it had happened in a different world. Shit. Right now, Cyan looked horrified, the way Sabin had felt the first time a monster had muddled his mind and he'd beaten Edgar to a pulp in his confusion. The way Cyan had been looking at him just minutes ago was almost impossible to remember, like he'd dreamed it. "We had sex. But what the hell were we thinking?"

"It... it must have been the pollen," Cyan said shakily. "We were not in our right minds."

Right. Of course. There was no way they would have done this otherwise. At least no way Cyan would have.

Definitely no way Cyan would ever have so much as kissed him, let alone all the rest, if he'd been in his right mind. The man had seen his wife and son die just a year ago; there was no way he was going to stick it in a lovesick prince half his age without the influence of mind-altering monster pollen. 

"Yeah," Sabin said. "That was... not the real us. Either of us."

"We should return to the airship," Cyan said. "But we must retrieve Gau..."

Cyan couldn't even seem to look at him. Sabin felt like he'd swallowed a lead weight. "You go on back," he said. "I'll get Gau and head back that way."

"But... thou art... physically... unwell." The words seemed to be like pulling teeth for him, and Sabin didn't get it.

"I think I got a lower dose of the pollen than you did," he said. Hadn't he said that already?

"No, I... I meant thy... hips."

"Oh." Sabin stood, easily enough. He needed to get his clothes back on, anyway. Maybe then Cyan would look at him. Sure, a little sore, but not like he couldn't walk. "I think I'll be okay."

"Very well, then," Cyan said. "If... if thou art certain, then I will clean myself and leave thee."

Why that wording, of all the ways he could have said it? "I'm sure," Sabin said. "I'm fine. Seriously, Cyan, you didn't hurt me or anything!" He snuck a glance over his shoulder, at Cyan, but Cyan still had his back to him, and Sabin returned his attention to finding a reasonably-clean cloth he could use for a quick sponge bath. Now that they weren't totally overwhelmed by allergenic horniness, he couldn't shake the image of Gau bounding up while they were both still stark naked and covered in each other's fluids.

"Nonetheless — Sir Sabin, hadst thou ever been with a man thus, before? Or a woman?"

Oh no. No, of course Cyan was going to find a way to torture himself with guilt, but Sabin had figured it would be about disrespecting his wife's memory. They knew each other too well for lying to work. "It's no big deal, Cyan. There's a first time for everything." 

"So thou sayest—"

"I promise you, I'm fine!" He pulled his pants on hastily and turned around so he could give Cyan the most reassuring grin he could manage. Cyan wasn't even looking his way, but Sabin waited, arms folded, until he finally turned around, and then turned on the grin again. If he focused on that, he could keep himself from saying possibly-regrettable things like _I'm glad it was you for my first time_ or _I might never get another chance with you._ What he did say was, "Want me to take off, so you can finish getting dressed on your own? You've got a lot more parts to put back on than I do." 

"As you wish," Cyan replied, so Sabin threw his pack back together, wet washcloth and all, slung it over one shoulder, and set off, trudging east, way too conscious of the way he was walking for fear Cyan would notice something wrong with it and blame himself. 

 

It was too much to hope that they'd be back to normal as soon as Sabin got back to the airship with Gau, but it still hurt to see Cyan greet Gau with a smile, listen to him talk about his adventures with lots of roaring and arm-waving, and then have the most painfully awkward not-quite-avoided eye contact of his life when their eyes met. And it was too much to hope they'd be back to normal the next day, but having Cyan completely avoid him at breakfast still stung. 

He just wanted things to be like they were. He'd been so afraid of screwing up their friendship that he hadn't even made the tiniest baby steps towards making a move — he hadn't even asked if Cyan had ever, like, given any thought to guys, or anything — because he figured it was a long shot even if Cyan weren't a grieving widower. And he'd figured that even if there was a chance, he'd be waiting years until Cyan was willing to love again. He'd thought he was okay with all that. Thought their friendship was worth it, even if Cyan was straight as an arrow and spent the rest of his life mourning Elayne. Or married that Lola girl, or something. And then the moment Sabin got a snort of horny dust he jumped right on Cyan's dick like it was his job. What the hell was wrong with him? Did it just run in the family?

And if they had ever gotten together — it wasn't like he'd laid around dreaming about his first kiss or anything, but he didn't need to give his first time a lot of thought to realize that "under the influence, in the dirt, in the middle of the freaking Veldt, and followed up by never speaking to your best friend again" was non-ideal. 

And it wasn't like it was Cyan's fault. Cyan had apparently been hit harder and faster than him, but kept a clear enough head to think of isolating himself and scratching the itch solo. Sabin had been the one who'd taken everything to the friendship-ruining next level. And no wonder Cyan didn't want anything to do with him — Sabin had basically forced him to disrespect his wife's memory, and apparently saddled him with some kind of guilt about hurting Sabin? And for all he knew Cyan had never touched a guy in his life and the only reason he could keep it up for Sabin was because of the porno plant.

Okay, maybe he was stretching a little in his desire to beat himself up. Cyan had seemed pretty comfortable and like he knew what he was doing, and he'd made that comment about kissing guys like he'd done it before. Which _would_ have been intriguing new information under other circumstances, but not so much anymore. 

And the cherry on top was that he was still hopelessly turned on by the whole experience. Normally he could go a long time without being hit by any major urges; he wasn't a teenager anymore, and unlike his brother, he could keep himself under control. Or so he'd thought, but now it was like his body remembered every single part of him Cyan had touched. He'd be lying in bed at night, trying to think up a good "Hey I'm Sorry I Jumped You Please Forgive Me" speech and suddenly his ass was remembering Cyan's hands and then his dick got all nostalgic. 

It lasted about three days, which _felt_ like an eternity to him, but he wasn't the one beating himself up about fucking a guy half his age less than a year after his wife and son died in his arms. So he was sure Cyan was feeling worse, which meant Sabin both needed to face him and was terrified of it. And also unsure how to get in the same room with him long enough to face him. It was a huge relief when Edgar finally told him that Cyan wanted to meet him up on the airship deck on the fourth night.

"Were you being all sneaky to arrange this?" Sabin asked. 

"No, I was just up there while Setzer set the course and the autopilot. One day maybe he'll trust me enough to let me fly this thing." 

"And Cyan's just... waiting up there?"

"He should be. Are you going to go up there and sort this out?"

"What did he tell you? What do you know?" 

"I know _nothing_ except that you two have canned the old-married-couple bickering in favor of... what, not speaking at all? You can't get divorced, Sabin. Gau needs two fathers." 

"Yeah, you're hilarious. I'm going to go talk to him."

"Do that! Save your marriage!" 

Sabin shot a rude gesture over his shoulder, mostly because it gave him a fraction of a second of not being sick with anticipation over what Cyan would have to say. 

What he was not expecting was for Cyan, at the sight of him, to prostrate himself into what Sabin recognized as a _dogeza._ He should recognize it; he'd had to perform a number of them, for various training infractions and mischief, back in his early days training with Duncan. "Cyan, what the hell?"

"Sir Sabin, I can only beg most humbly for your pardon!" _Your,_ no less. Sabin had always been "thou" to Cyan; it might be old-fashioned but for Cyan it was casual. 

"I have no idea why _you're_ asking _me_ for forgiveness? I'm the one who's sorry! I've been thinking about how to apologize to you since about two minutes after I cleaned myself up!"

Cyan was at least surprised enough by that to lift his head, if only to give Sabin a confused, searching look. "Thou art sorry? And for what? What hast thou done that merits apology? I am the one who laid hands on thee, who— even if it were proper to seek another lover so soon after the loss of my wife, for me to approach one of royal blood in so disrespectful a manner would never be right—"

"Wait, royal blood? Cyan, that's not—" At least he was back to "thou _."_

"And to force myself on thee as I did is unforgivable!"

"When the hell did that happen? Cyan, _please_ get up!" 

Cyan obediently got up to his knees, but he kept his eyes down, and Sabin, seeing no other way to handle it, came up to face him and knelt down in seiza as well. "Okay," he said. "Can you maybe look me in the eyes?"

Cyan raised his eyes and briefly met Sabin's, but then he looked down again. "I am too ashamed," he said quietly.

"Your wife was right. You really do have too much honor. Listen to me, Cyan. Me being royal has nothing to do with anything. You didn't even approach me — you were trying to stay away, and I was the one who came on to you. You didn't force yourself on me. I felt like I forced myself on you!"

"Nay, that is— how could I take any injury from that? It was I who laid hands on thee, not the other way 'round, and it would never be right for one such as me to do so to one such as thee." 

Sabin was pretty used to parsing Cyan's diction, but this was new territory. "Is this about who stuck it in who?"

Cyan visibly flinched, but with great distaste, he finally admitted, "If thou must have it thus."

"These are new euphemisms, okay? 'Laying hands on' is confusing! We were both putting our hands all over each other, remember?" He sure did. His body was helpfully remembering all about it, right now. 

"Aye," Cyan said. "I have been unable to forget, all this time."

Was that a good thing, or not? "Me either." 

"So... you feel like the _way_ we did it is wrong, because my dad was the king and now my brother is."

"Aye."

"Even though we're from a _totally different kingdom_ than you. And even though I enjoyed it, and more or less jumped on you, and—" 

"It matters not," Cyan said stubbornly, but he didn't sound as determined and upset as he had earlier. "There is a proper order to these things, and I violated that as surely as I violated thy youth and inexperience."

Sabin groaned, and rubbed his hands over his face. He had to have a discussion like this, with Cyan of all people, while sitting in seiza. "I was so sure you'd be upset about completely different things than this. For all I know, you don't even like guys, and I _did_ know it was way too soon for you—"

"Too soon after my loss of my wife for propriety, certainly. To my shame, 'twas not too soon for... for desire." It was kind of hard to tell, in the gas lights from the deck rails, but Sabin was pretty sure Cyan was blushing. 

"I dunno, that plant might have made you horny regardless of how you feel the rest of the time," Sabin said. "I don't think the pollen affecting you is anything to be ashamed of."

"'Twas not merely the pollen," Cyan said quietly. "I had... begun to cherish certain hopes regarding thee, as soon as I knew thou wert well and had survived this cataclysm." 

"Really?" It was everything he'd been hoping for, for ages. He should be happy right now. But Cyan didn't really sound happy, or even like he was nervously confessing his feelings.

"Truly. I had hoped, if thou wert amenable, if we both survived and vanquished Kefka, we two could be together someday."

"That's... that's sort of what I always hoped too." Only without the proper-mourning-period thing. He'd just figured it would take Cyan years, and hoped if he hung around long enough Cyan would start to feel the same way he did. Not exactly a winning strategy, now he thought about it.

"But to begin thus... how can I amend the wrongs I have done thee?"

"If it bothers you that much I can be on top next time," Sabin said. "I can't guarantee I'll know what I'm doing, but I guess everybody has to start somewhere."

Cyan actually scowled at him, which was surprisingly pleasant and reassuring. 

"Not that? If it's about the fact it was my first time— maybe it wasn't _ideal,_ but it's not like I've been daydreaming about having you deflower me on a bed strewn with rose petals. Were you?"

"Er... no...." He looked a little fidgety, though.

"You sure about that?" Sabin grinned, and shifted around until he could stretch his legs out in front of himself. "You know if you did I'd be making smart remarks the whole time."

"'Smart' is perhaps one way of describing them," Cyan said, and Sabin was so glad to have the old Cyan back, even if it was just for a second, that he laughed out loud.

Cyan was smiling, too. Slightly, grudgingly, but he was smiling. 

"Thou art irrepressible," Cyan said. "I might have known thou wouldst recover swiftly."

"There was nothing to recover from, I'm telling you! Not from the actual event. Worrying about losing you was the rough part."

"Truly?" Cyan looked ridiculously hopeful. Had he been listening to _anything_ Sabin said up till now?

"Truly," Sabin said. "I... did I say it while we were doing it? I was just glad I was with you. Wouldn't matter where or _how_ my first time was, as long as it was with you. Okay? So stop feeling so guilty over an allergic reaction." 

"As you say, sir." Cyan finally shifted into a cross-legged position. 

"And... I'm guessing no repeat performances, huh?"

"I could not. Not for another year more, at least."

"Yeah," Sabin said, softly. "I get it. I figured."

"After that time has passed, if thy feelings have not changed..."

"Or yours," Sabin said. "But I'll wait for you. I always figured there'd be some waiting. I will wait as long as I need to, until you're ready."

Cyan was holding out his hand, and Sabin sat forward, moving close enough to take it in both of his. It was broad, and weathered, and Sabin was going to hold it as long Cyan would let him. 


End file.
